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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236098">Taralen Lavellan</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliafied/pseuds/juliafied'>juliafied</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>DA Drunk Writing Circle Prompt Fills [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Crush at First Sight, Friendship, M/M, Pining, Prompt Fill, Protective Siblings, Siblings, Slow Burn, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Sexual Tension, dadwc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:40:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliafied/pseuds/juliafied</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A member of Clan Lavellan comes to visit Inquisitor Aeneris Lavellan at Skyhold. Dorian's quite sure he's the prettiest man he's ever seen. However, a miscommunication occurs about the precise nature of the relationship between Aeneris and this Taralen. Hilarity ensues.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Lavellan &amp; Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>DA Drunk Writing Circle Prompt Fills [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099877</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt for <a href="https://dadrunkwriting.tumblr.com/">DADWC</a>, from <a href="https://luzial.tumblr.com/">luzial</a>: “How could you ask me that?” for a pairing of your choice?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Dorian had been getting along quite well with Inquisitor Aeneris Lavellan. Famously, he could even say - she hadn’t even sneered at him after that rather embarrassing incident with his father. He didn’t really know why he had expected her to. Only that there were quite a lot of people who sneered at him around Skyhold, and maybe he’d thought it was only a matter of time until she did, too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But she hadn’t, just pulled him into her arms in a rare show of affection that ended far too quickly for his liking but he had not the guts to prolong, and told him not to stop with the flirting. And then she had fled downstairs to talk to Solas. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“In another life,” he’d said, and meant it, in a way he couldn’t describe. He hadn’t known at the time that he’d get the chance to see a glimpse of that other life so vividly before him. That is, leaning against a bookshelf. In <em>his</em> corner of the library.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“<em>Aneth ara</em>,” said the Dalish elf standing before him, “you must be Dorian. Neris had to go somewhere to take care of some,” here he waved his hand vaguely, “<em>Inquisitorial </em>business, but she told me to come up here and introduce myself to her dearest friend in all of Skyhold.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She said that?” Dorian murmured with a note of wonder, though not all of it was for Aeneris’ kind words. The elf that stood before him was, quite frankly, the loveliest man Dorian had ever seen, and he had been to nearly every salacious salon in Minrathous, so he knew what he was talking about. The warmth in his sun-kissed skin made him look as if Dorian could heat up properly for the first time in months simply by standing in his presence. The soft curve of his lips, the long, lean muscles of his arms, accentuated by the tight sleeves of the shirt he wore, the sparkle in his warm ochre eyes... the sight of him left Dorian embarrassingly breathless. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He realized the elf had said something and was waiting for a reply.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“S-sorry,” Dorian managed to squeeze out, “what did you say?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The elf smirked knowingly. So, he was used to this kind of reaction. “My name is Taralen. It is a pleasure to meet you.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Maker, even his voice was melted honey. Who was this man? </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine. Are you of Clan Lavellan?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Taralen raised a perfect eyebrow and nodded. “Has Neris never spoken of me?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>To tell the truth, and he would never tell the Inquisitor this, Dorian had a hard time keeping track of Dalish names. Granted, Aeneris could barely remember any human names, either, a flaw which Josephine chastised her for repeatedly.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m sure she has,” Dorian replied absently, and watched Taralen’s face fall briefly. He’d have to ask her about him later. “What brings you so far from home to Skyhold, Taralen?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The Inquisitor summoned me, and so I came,” he said with a grandiose hand gesture. “Honestly, I think Neris just misses home, and she can’t very well visit us in Wycome right now, so I came here.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dorain smiled wistfully, thinking of his own home that he missed so terribly. “That’s very kind of you. I’m sure she appreciates it.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, well, at least when her advisors aren’t talking her ear off. Speaking of which, I think she should be free soon - I’d better go and find her before someone in the castle calls the guard on me. It was nice meeting you,” he said with a wicked little grin, and touched his hand lightly to Dorian’s forearm. “I’ll see you around.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Then the beautiful Taralen was gone, and Dorian’s mouth could finally drop open.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Hours later, after the Inquisitor had called an emergency meeting, and said meeting had finished with Cassandra yelling at Morrigan again, Dorian chased Aeneris as she took the stairs up to her quarters. The frown on her face managed to lessen somewhat when he approached, though the smile she gave him was weak. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I met your Taralen,” Dorian said. Now, Aeneris beamed. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I know! He said he liked you. He’ll be around for the next few months. I hope you two can be friends.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Friends, hmm?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>They had walked up to her door. Dorian hesitated to follow her, but she waved him in. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Please come in. I need to vent about this damn meeting to someone.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He listened to her complain for awhile, interjecting with the proper affirmations and nods. He knew that she needs this, sometimes, to express her frustrations about the oddities of human politicking. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>After she’d gotten it off her chest, something about her whole demeanour became more relaxed. She leaned back into her armchair and took a sip of water from the jug that was always nearby.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dorian took the opportunity to ask, “So what’s Taralen’s deal?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Aeneris furrowed her brows. “His deal?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dorian felt a blush colour his cheeks. “You know, if he has a sweetheart back home in your clan. Any... preferences?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She stared at him blankly. “How— how could you ask me that?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What do you mean?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A truly rageful expression now graced her visage, similar to the one she’d had earlier in their meeting. She stood up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Dorian! He’s my <em>brother</em>! Off-limits!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dorian blanched. “Your... brother... he didn’t say anything! How was I supposed to know?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She looked at him, disbelieving. “Do you listen to a <em>word</em> I say about my clan? About Taralen, my dearest baby brother, whom I love so much? Who I taught to shoot a bow and would give my life for? <em>That brother</em>?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her voice gained in volume with every word. Dorian backed away slowly. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m sorry! I knew you had a brother, it’s just that Dalish names are hard!” he yelled desperately, but it was too late. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Get out!” stormed Aeneris, and Dorian turned tail and fled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As he sped furtively down the stairs, he passed Taralen going up, who shot him a sly wink.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Oh, shut up,” he muttered under his breath.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It continues! This one's a prompt fill for <a href="https://dadrunkwriting.tumblr.com/">DADWC</a>, requested by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightprelude">midnightprelude</a>: "Having their hair washed".</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Someone had turned the steam up all the way in the little shack that somehow passed for a bathhouse inside of Skyhold’s walls. Of course, Dorian wasn’t about to complain, as a poor excuse for a bathhouse was better than no bathhouse at all, and the steamy little shack was the only place he could use his favourite soaps, that smelt like home. The extra steam was welcome as it swirled around him, finally ridding him of the last of the Fallow Mire chill. Perhaps it would soothe the nasty bruise on his leg, too.</p><p>As he sank into one of the tubs that was miraculously always filled with warm, clean water (he had Dagna and her ingenuity to thank for that - Orzammar dwarves apparently had almost as much a penchant for bathing facilities as Tevinters), he thought wistfully of the great baths in Minrathous, a favourite haunt of his during his Circle days. The Skyhold bathhouse was a far cry from the multi-storey complex he longed for, where a multitude of rooms filled with steam, dry heat, and even pools of cold water catered to the preference of each bather. Dorian missed the patrons, too - everything from a philosophical debate on the nature of electrical Fade dynamics to an orgy could be found at the Minrathous baths on a good day. Here, in the middle of the night, he was alone - though, to be true, he preferred having the place to himself, away from the stares of the Skyhold populace.</p><p>He poured some salts into the bath and dropped his shoulders deeper, hearing some water splash out over the edge. Closing his eyes, he thought about the son of the Avvar leader who led his whole clan into ruin. Perhaps his father thought Dorian was doing the same to the Pavus legacy, running around as he did with the Inquisition. He smiled bitterly to himself. <em>I hope so</em>.</p><p>Suddenly, he heard a creak and the sound of glass shattering, followed by a hissed, “<em>Fenhedis!</em>” Uttering a curse of his own, Dorian scrambled out of the tub and haphazardly wrapped a nearby towel around his waist. </p><p>“Is everything alright?” he called out, before rounding the corner into the other arm of the bathhouse and almost running into Taralen Lavellan.</p><p>Taralen Lavellan, who was scowling and <em>very</em> naked.</p><p>“Ah!” Dorian exclaimed, furious at the blush that was rushing to his cheeks. He quickly averted his gaze, but not before catching a glimpse of the vallaslin that curled around his beautiful chest. Taralen, however, did not look the least bit embarrassed by Dorian witnessing his state of undress, and merely gestured angrily towards the tub next to him. </p><p>“I don’t understand. I thought there would be at least some kind of pump, like they have in shem cities. Where are we supposed to get the water from?”</p><p>Dorian stared blankly at him (at his face, only his face), and then realized that Taralen was expecting an answer.</p><p>“They’re runes,” he said, with far less authority and much more trembling in his voice than he had hoped. He walked over to the tub, Taralen’s narrowed eyes following him, and pressed on the blue button, followed by the red button. The tub immediately began filling with hot water. “See?”</p><p>Dorian saw that Taralen had bitten his lip in the most irresistible way and had to look away again, this time to the floor, where he saw shards of glass around a pool of creamy yellow gel. Crouching down to pick up the shards, he was hit by the lemon aroma of the soap. </p><p>“Shame,” he murmured, “this soap’s from Antiva.”</p><p>He almost shuddered when Taralen’s knee brushed against his as he crouched to join him in cleaning up the glass. They put the pieces into a small towel that Taralen snatched from a nearby pile of them and tied up the corners.</p><p>“Well, it can stay there, as far as I’m concerned.” His shoulder-length brown hair, usually tied back into a neat ponytail, fell loosely into his eyes, the gentle waves close enough to tickle Dorian’s nose. “I don’t know how to use any of these things. My clan only ever had lye soap, and that served us plenty well. How’d you get Neris hooked on this stuff?”</p><p>Dorian chuckled. “She has a bathtub in her rooms.”</p><p>Taralen rolled his eyes. “Of course her <em>Inquisitorialness</em> does.”</p><p>He stood abruptly, then, and Dorian did the same, lest he let his eyes wander overmuch. Taralen dipped his hand in the water of the now-full tub, flashing a pretty smile at Dorian.</p><p>“It’s so warm!”</p><p>And he hopped into the bath with a delighted laugh.</p><p>Dorian couldn’t help but laugh along, despite being aware of the blush that persisted on his cheeks. He hoped Taralen would attribute it to the heat, though he doubted it. The elf missed very little, as evidenced by their first meeting.</p><p>Taralen let out a satisfied groan. “You know what? I take it back. Use all the fancy soaps you please if it comes with this sort of thing.”</p><p>Dorian smiled and took a look at the so-called fancy soaps Taralen had brought along with him. There was a shampoo and conditioner - it seemed the soap had been the one that had been smashed. Two of them weren’t soaps at all - one was a vial of salts, the other an oil for the hair. He opened up the vial of salts and emptied it into Taralen’s tub. Steam rose off the surface of the water, obscuring the rest of his body, thankfully. Dorian wasn’t certain his (albeit limited) sense of propriety could survive, otherwise.</p><p>“This one will help with sore muscles.”</p><p>“Mmm,” hummed Taralen, letting the water wash over his muscular shoulders. “I can think of a few other things that would, too, but this’ll have to do for now.”</p><p>Dorian smirked as he turned away, though a thrill shot through his back and into his stomach. He picked up one of the other bottles and showed it to Taralen. “Can I interest you in some shampoo?”</p><p>A pause. “Shampoo?”</p><p>“It’s a special soap for your hair.”</p><p>“Ah.”</p><p>Dorian observed the frustrated curve return to Taralen’s brow, and a frown tugged at the corners of those full, lovely lips. This couldn’t be easy for him, he realized – Aeneris had settled into her role well enough, despite being leader of the Inquisition for a faith she didn’t believe in, amongst people she wasn’t familiar with, with customs and traditions she neither knew nor cared for. But she had a goal, a purpose, a responsibility to focus her. Though Taralen was clearly both adventurous and brave for making the trek to Skyhold, Dorian had seen him wandering aimlessly around the castle while Aeneris met with diplomats and advisors alike. He’d noticed how despondent he became when she left on a long mission to some faraway Inquisition outpost. Abandoning everything he had ever known and loved in favour of living amongst some strange humans in the South just to keep his often absent and preoccupied sister company had to be difficult. Isolating, even. Lonely.</p><p>It was a story that felt familiar, too.</p><p>“Would you like me to wash it for you?” He almost stumbled over the words, but something compelled him to offer. Perhaps it would bring him some comfort. Or, at the very least, some clean hair.</p><p>Now, it was Taralen’s turn to blush, though he did it very prettily. He nodded, an uncharacteristically bashful smile on his lips.</p><p>“I would like that.”</p><p>Dorian retrieved a pail that was hanging on a hook on a wall nearby and filled it with the hot, fragrant water of the tub. Gently, almost reverently, he poured some water over Taralen’s brown locks, which tightened into delightful curls as they hung off the edge of the bathtub. He refilled the pail and soaked the top of Taralen’s head, who hummed quietly and sunk deeper into the water. Dorian then took the bottle of shampoo and emptied a sovereign-sized dollop of shampoo on his hand. Slowly, he worked it into Taralen’s hair, focusing on massaging his scalp. He seemed to relax under his touch, and even gave a little sigh of relief.</p><p>“You know,” Dorian started, “correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve seen you around the castle, and if Aeneris hasn’t given you much to do—”</p><p>“Neris is very busy,” Taralen cut in sharply.</p><p>“Be that as it may, if you find yourself in want of some conversation, you can find me in the library whenever you like. I can be very charming when I want to be, or so I’ve been told.”</p><p>Taralen chuckled, and they were silent for a few moments, as Dorian ran his fingers through the elf’s lathered up hair. “You’ve been watching me, then?”</p><p>“You do seem to catch the eye, yes,” he replied, almost flippant in tone, but he felt his pulse quicken.</p><p>Willing his hands not to tremble, he dipped the pail back into the water, this time dipping both his hands in as well, to wash off the lather. As he withdrew, Taralen caught Dorian’s wrist in his hand. Even this brief touch sent a jolt of electricity down Dorian’s spine, one that he couldn’t be sure wasn’t magical in nature. He turned and his ochre eyes met Dorian’s, burning with a sudden intensity.</p><p>“I’ve seen you around, too. I’ll be sure to take advantage of your hospitality in the library. And your charm. I agree that you’ve got quite a lot of it.”</p><p>There was that wink again, the one that had made Dorian curse all the way down the stairs that led away from Aeneris’ quarters. <em>Fasta vass</em>, he wasn’t supposed to be feeling this way again, not at his age, not with what was at stake for his country, not here. He couldn’t help the sinking feeling, however, as Taralen released his hand and he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair.</p><p>“I’m looking forward to it,” he found himself saying.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I giggled a lot writing this. It's very silly. And honestly I love the idea of Dorian falling in love with Aeneris' brother who's stuck at Skyhold until the mountain passes melt. Would be a lovely story. Hmm... [fanfic planning gears turning]</p></blockquote></div></div>
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